his heavy storm coat stood on the
bridge, while the rain swished and swirled over the tossing seas, and
swept the decks, so that it was much pleasanter in the cabin than
abroad, but Jim enjoyed nothing more in sailoring than to be at the
wheel a night like this, guiding his craft plunging through the heavy
waves in the darkness. There was a fascination about it, the obedience
of the ship to the helm, the following of the mysterious guidance of
the needle, the standing fixed against the rush of wind and rain, the
familiar feeling of the spokes of the wheel, like grasping the bridle
reins when riding a spirited horse, all this went to make up Jim's
liking for this work.

Now being anxious for the welfare of Tom and Jo, let us see if they
are safely tucked away in their little cribs. We find that they are
not, so mischief must be afoot, and it is. It seems that neither Jo
nor Tom were in any mood to go to sleep, and their minds were busy
with the story that the engineer had told them. They felt a desire to
emulate him. So they lay awake and thought what they might do to make
life interesting on the ocean wave.

Tom thought of surprising the captain and Jim by making weird sounds
back of the cabin on the quarter deck and robing himself in a white
sheet at the same time. A most excellent plan indeed, both worthies
being such timid characters. But Tom gave up the idea of this
surprise for fear the tables might be turned on him and then he would
get a taste of the rope's end for fair, so he had another thought
coming.

The idea that came to Jo in the silent night watches was to give Jeems
a benefit while he was busy stoking, but there was one difficulty here
that it was almost impossible to get down into the hold without being
discovered, so that plan had to be given up. Then an inspiration came
to Tom.

He got hastily up, and went to Jo's cabin, which was just forward of
his on the main deck. You see there were three cabins on a side; each
of the boys had one and the engineer the sixth. Tom did not stop to
knock, and slid Jo's cabin door noiselessly back, but the wakeful Jo
heard him.

"Who's there?" he demanded in a gruff voice.

"Don't shoot. It's me, Tom," replied a low voice.

"Well, Mr. Tom, what are you doing up so early in the morning?"
inquired Jo.

"I've got a scheme," said Tom in the low voice of a conspirator.
"Let's surprise old Pete and the boy in the forecastle."

"It's dark as a cave down there," s